


aeger

by samisaywhat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Gen, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 14:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11602926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samisaywhat/pseuds/samisaywhat
Summary: Grief didn’t have a scent, but it certainly had a look to it.





	aeger

The leaves rustle in an all too familiar way, pushed aside by the unsteady gait of the gangly human that has somehow found his way into the woods again. The sun is setting slowly, leaving enough light for the boy to make his way in, but not back out without aid. It is the reason he chooses such a time to venture within.

“Derek?” The boy calls out, still far off.

The wolf raises his head in recognition, though he still wonders why. He does it without much thought, realizing a moment too late that he has, once again, silently responded to the name. He had a name before, maybe, along with things that he doesn't bother thinking about anymore, like family, friends; a place to call home.

" _Derek._ " He hears again, insistently said this time. He knows he should answer back, just to let the boy know his location in the darkness of the forest. The fading sunlight is enough for his eyes, but as much as the boy would insist on his own abilities, it will soon be too dark for a human to see.

Too lost in his own thoughts, the wolf doesn't answer. It is quiet for a moment, long enough for him to wonder if the boy has gone, finally, to whatever place he belongs to. But he hears the name again—his name—a little louder and slightly closer. There is fear laced in, which is oddly placed seeing as the boy is calling for a wolf of all things.

Derek, as even he has started to call himself now, takes pity and stalks forward in silence until he's right behind the boy. He thinks to make some sound to indicate his presence, but takes greater satisfaction in scaring the boy when he can. He carefully presses his nose into the back of the boy's hand, causing him to jump forward in a jumble of limbs and curses.

"Jesus, Derek!" The boy grits his teeth in clear annoyance and disapproval, placing his hands on his hips as he glares at Derek.

Derek tilts his head in feigned ignorance, using his body to best communicate in place of words. The boy—Stiles is his name, Derek reminds himself—seems to understand him well enough on most days.

"You're an asshole." Stiles tells him, reaching out a hand to pet him. Derek doesn't know why he allows it, doesn't understand why he allows Stiles anywhere near him. He leans into Stiles' touch anyway, loving the way those long fingers work into his fur. Stiles takes his time running his hands through the thick mess of black, pushing it this and that way. When he is satisfied with Derek’s messy appearance, he pulls those fingers away. Derek watches them sit restlessly at Stiles’ sides and wonders why Stiles can’t stay still.

Stiles is as nervous as a rabbit even though he takes the company of a wolf. Derek had half a mind to hunt the boy down as prey when he first caught his scent deep within the woods. He moved quickly through the treeline, chasing the scent and sound of the boy, ready to strike, but stopped as soon as he caught sight of his target.

There was a boy standing alone in a small clearing, trying to tie the stems of dandelions together. The weeds had never particularly interested the wolf, but now they mesmerized him as the boy pulled them mercilessly from the ground, blowing off florets before he tried to tie the new stem to his collection. By the time the wolf pulled his eyes away, he had forgotten about hunting entirely.

Derek did not think he would meet the boy again, but caught the scent of him the very next day. He found the boy in similar spots, always stopping to touch and examine various flowers and branches. Derek watched him for days before the boy finally noticed him. Derek expected fear, expected screaming. He most certainly did not expect the boy to throw a branch in his direction, shouting, “Fetch!”

That was a long time ago, when this human wasn’t so big or thin. There was a brightness in his eyes that had since faded. Derek could only guess that it was the innocence that every child had, but Stiles lost it much earlier than most. Crying drained it from his eyes as he clung to a predator in the woods one stormy night. There were many things Derek didn’t understand about the human world, but he knew grief better than most. Grief didn’t have a scent, but it certainly had a look to it.

Many things had changed since then.

**Author's Note:**

> Revisiting my unposted fanfics and figured this one didn't need anything else added to it.


End file.
